


"Piñata" or "Oswald's Birthday Bash for Edward"

by MistyBeethoven



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Birthday, Birthday Party, Birthday Presents, Child Abuse, Dark, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Pinata, Pinatas, Post-Canon, Revenge, Shower Sex, Showers, Spanking, fathers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-01-31 08:21:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21443143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyBeethoven/pseuds/MistyBeethoven
Summary: When Oswald discovers Edward's painful childhood, he bestows upon his lover a rather unique Birthday present.
Relationships: Batman & Edward Nygma, Batman & Oswald Cobblepot, Edward Nygma & Edward Nygma's Father, Oswald Cobblepot & Edward Nygma's Father, Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Comments: 24
Kudos: 108





	"Piñata" or "Oswald's Birthday Bash for Edward"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chierei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chierei/gifts).

> For the fantabulous Chierei!
> 
> This has been in my head for months but I fought with myself if I should actually write it or not. After "Angels, Ghosts and the Hearts of Men," I wasn't sure that I wanted to go there. I thought it may be a little too dark of a follow up. Or too violent. 
> 
> I found the start of it, though, and had a change of heart. It's dark because it needs to be. And violent for that reason too.
> 
> Couldn't decide on a title so I went with both of them. Make your choice.

Two men lay naked on the king size bed in the Van Dahl Manor. From an angel's view they were in stark contrast to each other; the only similarity seemed to be the color of their hair and skin. One was short and overweight; the other was slender and tall. The differences seeped through to their emotions although this was not evident until one became acquainted with them as most residents of Gotham inevitably were; while one man was ruled by his emotions the other tried his best to follow his head.

The one exception to this rule, however, being his feelings for the larger man who was now draped between his legs, his head resting on his thigh.

The Riddler ran a hand through the Penguin's dark hair, enjoying the feeling the other man's breath on his spent penis and the way he was gently rubbing his fingers in a circular motion on the opposite thigh.

"Do you think my mother would be proud of me?" Oswald Cobblepot asked suddenly.

"Were you worried?" Edward Nygma inquired, still playing with Oswald Cobblepot's hair.

Oswald shifted a bit, a new exhalation of air hitting the sleeping member. Edward felt it stirring momentarily back to life and prayed it kept to its slumber at least for the moment. It did not seem like the proper time, after all.

"I worry I would disappoint her," the Penguin said.

"Do you mean us?"

"No," Oswald passionately said and shook his head. "I mean, I used to worry about that but not anymore. It's funny but the night after we were reunited I had this feeling that she wouldn't have minded: that she gave us her blessing."

Edward smiled as he molded a tuft of Oswald's hair into a peak. Apparently it had been swept back sometime during their lovemaking. "You're one of Gotham City's wealthiest individuals and the Iceberg Lounge is the "_It_" place to be. What could possibly disappoint her?"

Cobblepot sighed again, unleashing another wave of hot breath and Edward felt blood rush instantly to his penis as it twitched in recognition of the action. Oswald had better get to the point, Nygma thought, or he was going to have to ignore a swollen cock several inches in front of his face while they continued the conversation.

"I feel guilty sometimes...about the crime."

Hearing Oswald Cobblepot confess that he actually had attacks of conscience about his professional business shocked Edward deeply; for all of the time in the new life they had created and shared together, he had never heard his lover voice any misgivings.

"She loved you, Oswald," Edward said. "She knew deep down about everything, I'm sure, but she _loved_ you. If it makes you feel any better, I think you're a tad more reserved now than in your reckless youth."

"You think?" Oswald turned his head to look into his lover's eyes. His chin was pressing into Edward's thigh and there was a hopeful grin on his face.

"Yes," Edward answered. "You don't torture and kill half as many people as you used to and you always make sure that they are rotten sons of a bitches if you do."

The tall man either overlooked the fact that what Oswald deemed as "rotten" or a "son of a bitch" differed very greatly from the opinions of others. Of course, holding very much the same point of view, Edward Nygma may have been merely ignorant.

"You're right," Oswald said proud of himself. "I'm a respectable gentleman now."

The chubby man went back to rubbing his thin lover's thigh and Nygma echoed the touch on his lover's shoulder.

"Ed?"

"Mmmm hmmm."

"What were your parents like? You never mention them."

Edward Nygma swallowed harshly. He felt the sensation of needles on his back, of both ice and fire burning his throat.

It had been a question he had been dreading for a very long time.

"Ed?" Oswald asked feeling the change in his lover's mood from the slight tensing of the leg muscles he was resting on and the sullen silence that had fallen down around them.

"They made me go to summer camp once and I hated it. It's one of my best memories I have of them," Edward finally said; his voice was flat and without emotion.

Penguin looked at the face of the man he loved more than anything in the world, searching it for more of an explanation.

"Time to go to sleep Oswald," Edward said as he turned out the light, leaving Oswald Cobblepot feeling left in the dark in more ways than one.

* * *

Over the next few days, Oswald became lost in an obsession that had never occurred to him but which now consumed him: what had Edward Nygma's childhood been like exactly?

Maybe it was his own self absorption, but Cobblepot now realized a little guiltily that he had never considered it before. He had had some odd idea that Nygma had just been spat out of the sky and on to Earth, fully formed and completely _wonderful_. Thinking of Ed as a child had always seemed odd; the man did not seem to have a childlike bone in his body other than the joy which claimed him when he thought he had finally beaten Batman or had found a difficult puzzle to solve. Other than that Ed Nygma seemed perfectly well...adult. 

Oswald knew that this helped to balance them out in a way. He was aware that he, himself, could be horribly childish at times. His tantrums were legendary as was his boyish naivete. That the Penguin wore his heart on his sleeve was a well known fact and something other Gotham criminals had tried to exploit.

Even Edward himself.

Still once they had ironed out the problems in their relationship, and found out that each had something the other lacked, they had become an invincible team. Invincible other than Batman, that was. When Os knew he was losing his head, Ed was there to be the voice of reason. Unless the man was having one of his odd emotional spells.

After he had broached the subject of Nygma's parents, Cobblepot noticed that his lover was getting in one of his snappy and irritable moods. That his Birthday was coming up probably did not help matters, the plump man knew. Edward Nygma had always wished to beat Batman while he still saw himself as young and the fact that another year had passed by without any reason to gloat disturbed him.

One night, as Oswald's greedy hands had gone to the front of his lover's green pajama bottoms, eagerly searching for the treasure hidden inside, he had scowled in dismay when Edward had flung the hands away in irritation. "Not tonight Oswald."

Cobblepot had pouted as he plopped his plump ass down on to the soft mattress. "And why not Edward Nygma?" he demanded.

"Because my head is already too full of facts and figures trying to take down Batman, to bother with yours!" the man proclaimed in anger, bringing his hands to his head and waving them about as if illustrating his overcrowded mind.

With an angry little pout, Oswald flung his legs over the side of the bed. Tears were stinging his eyes and he tried to wipe them away with the sleeve of his lush, purple, velvet robe. The sound of him sniffing a few more of them away must have caught Nygma's attention for a few seconds later he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry Oswald."

"It's quite all right Edward," the Penguin said in a tone which revealed it was anything but.

With a tired sigh, which was sad enough to scare Oswald about what his partner was about to reveal, the Riddler said, "I've been a little on edge since you brought up the subject of parents. I try not to think of my own. Care to hear why?"

Although he was more frightened than he had ever been by the dark shadowed form of the Caped Crusader and only a little less than when his mother had died in his arms, Oswald Cobblepot turned around, met his lover's dark eyes and nodded slowly in acquiescence.

Edward's eyes were clouded with the past; he looked like a terrified child; one who had died many years ago. Still he started to begin his tale even if he could not meet his round listener's stare. "My father was a drunk but I'm not going to say that's why he was the way that he was. I have the feeling that the man would have been a violent bastard even if he were sober. He used to beat my mother and myself on a fairly routine basis and for the first few years of my life, I thought that that was normal."

He smiled bitterly at this recollection of a more innocent self before continuing. "When I was about eight years old my mom decided that she'd had enough. She went out for a spool of thread one day and never came back. I blamed her at the start for leaving dad and myself. I hated her even more later because she hadn't taken me too."

Oswald watched as Ed ran a frantic hand through his dark hair and his smile turned even more manic. His large white teeth were on display but there was no humor to be found; just the cruel joke of life that the Joker was always rattling on about. To offer comfort, Cobblepot placed a hand in comfort on the thin man's knee.

"His beatings intensified after she left. It was as if without her there he was trying to make me take hers as well. All I had to do was breath the wrong way and he'd hurt me. I know it was so bad a few times he should have taken me to the hospital. But he never did. I'd be stuck in my room trying to heal, not even getting the proper nutrition because he'd forget to feed me. You envy me my body, Oswald? Don't. You're looking at the price of years of malnutrition.

"But that's not even the worst. Sometimes...there were times...sometimes he..."

Edward Nygma could not finish the sentence. He didn't need to: Oswald Cobblepot painfully understood what the man could not bring himself to say. With a desperate fierceness the short man suddenly embraced Nygma, whom dissolved into a flood of tears.

"I guess, I really was my mother's replacement after all," Edward wept into Oswald's shoulder.

"Shhh...you were not! You weren't at all!" the Penguin protested. "You just had the great misfortune of having a loser as a father, Ed. It wasn't your fault. You are my smart, brave, good boy!"

The words made Ed tears flow even harder and Oswald cooed into his ear the lullaby his own mother had sung to him.

"I got out of there as fast as I could. Maybe that's why I'm so smart: my intelligence was my key to freedom."

"And also why you're so hard on yourself to succeed," the short man commented, giving the man in his arm's back a gentle rub.

"I never looked back. From what I heard, he's still living by the dock. And he is still as much of a drunk and an abuser as he always was."

Thinking of his lover's confession, Oswald Cobblepot suddenly had a realization over a matter which had always perplexed him a bit. Given their lives and the violence it always usually resulted in, the Penguin had always been somewhat shocked that Edward's lovemaking had always been tender. Other than the fact that he commonly liked to mark him with his come.

"Edward, is that the reason why you're never rough when we..."

Without speaking, Cobblepot felt his lover confirm it by nodding his head against his shoulder.

Oswald sighed and held Edward closer to him. While he would have enjoyed his sweetheart being a little more...forceful...it made sense now; the man had no desire to hurt him in the same fashion in which he had been hurt himself.

Remembering his own beloved mother, Cobblepot knew that he had been blessed to have one parent whom had truly loved him and had always taken care of him, in her own rather unique. Gertrud had been the one to give him the strength to fight the bullies and monsters which had harrassed him throughout his life.It had been a tragedy that Edward had been left to fight his monsters by himself.

And a sin that the greatest one of them all had been the man's own father.

His lover still crying in his arms, Oswald Cobblepot felt a rage growing inside of his heart and the always heated and insistent urge for revenge. 

* * *

Although Ed had repeatedly stated he wished for no big celebration on the day of his Birthday, Oswald ignored it completely and set about planning a party at the Iceberg Lounge which promised to make all others seem paltry. Even Bruce Wayne's regular shindigs would seem like half-hearted affairs after what the Penguin seemed to be plotting. Cases of the finest champagnes, not only Gotham but the world had to offer, were arriving at the club. Oswald had also send out invitations to all of the city's elite.

All the while, two dozen workers set about decorating the Lounge with green metallic streamers, giant question marks and various other appropriately related decorations.

If there was one obstacle to the proceedings going forward smoothly, it was the constantly looming presence of the Batman himself. Having gotten wind of the celebration, the Dark Knight could be seen lurking around, stealthily trying to figure out what two of his greatest enemies had up their dapper sleeves.

Edward often would study his love and try to figure out the riddle of how Oswald remained in such good humor with the Bat always peering over his shoulder. Half suspecting Cobblepot had plotted stealing some valuable bauble or piece of artwork for him, Nygma remained increasingly perplexed when Oswald would merely giggle joyfully when his goons brought back word about Batman's interference.

"Let him!" Oswald exclaimed. "I have nothing to hide. He's welcome to the party too! After all, he's a very dear friend of ours."

The Penguin looked over at his green suited lover and taking his hand gave it a squeeze.

"What are you up to, Oswald?" Ed Nygma asked after the goons had departed.

"Why nothing Edward!" Cobblepot smiled. "Why would I be _up_ to something?"

As Nygma stared at the small, obese beaming, beaked man he knew very well that the question wasn't why _would_ he but rather why _wouldn't_ he be instead.

* * *

On the night of Edward Nygma's Birthday, the Penguin and the Riddler sat on the Iceberg Lounge's stage like two kings in front of a crowd of dazzling, and very drunk, subjects. The many ornaments that covered the club glittered in the dull silver light in the room. Everything looked perfectly fitting and stylishly elaborate.

Everything except for a large piñata which hung from the ceiling. It was of a giant green donkey and looked garishly out of place and more befitting of a children's party than the swanky to do that Cobblepot had carefully fashioned.

Edward kept looking at it and the baseball bat which was resting behind the stage as he sat in his chair, his chin on his palm and a bored expression on his handsome face. Turning to look at his party attendees boisterous revelling, the puzzle master frowned all the more harder. 

Maybe it was his own rotten childhood and the lack of parties but he had no taste for Birthday celebrations. They only reminded you how close you were drawing to death, in Nygma's eyes, and made you have to suffer the company of buffoons and imbeciles. Most of them were strangers or people whom had willingly and gleefully testified at every trial that had also ever been held in his honor.

Hypocrites.

Edward turned to look at the one person he did care for. At least, Oswald seemed to be having a good time; the man was happily sipping his champagne, bouncing in his chair and offering him bright, cheery smiles. It was almost enough to make the whole event tolerable.

Almost.

"So where's old Brucie," Nygma asked flatly. "I thought, at least, he'd have the decency to show up."

"Oh! I forgot," Oswald exclaimed as he picked up a beautifully wrapped present at the side of his throne. "He couldn't make it. He sent his regrets, his regards and this."

The Penguin handed the Riddler the present and Edward admired the green wrapping paper with the big black bow before tearing into it.

"Nice," Nygma said truthfully holding up handkerchiefs of the finest silk with a question mark emblazoned on them. 

"You'll like the present I got you even better," Oswald bragged jealously.

"Do I get a hint?" Edward asked, tossing the opened box on to the floor.

Oswald shook his head so vigourously his monocle almost flew off. "You have solved every clue for every present that I have ever gotten you, Edward Nygma but not this year. This year, I solemnly vow, that I will surprise you!"

The Riddler turned away, silently grumbling to himself. While difficult questions to answer were somewhat amusing, smug birdlike lovers were less so.

When the whole crowd suddenly became quiet and a dark and ominous figure made his way across the club's floor, Ed Nygma felt both greatly annoyed and somewhat relieved.

"Batman!" Penguin rose to his feet. "How good of you to come."

Edward Nygma studied the intimidating figure of the Dark Knight. He hated looking at the bare part of his mask which revealed his face. It was, perhaps, the most damning riddle of them all; for while it looked tantalizingly familiar it was hard to put a finger on where from.

He also always looked like he had indigestion of some sort.

"I came to make sure that you two aren't up to anything," the Caped Crusader stated joylessly.

"Now that offends me!" Oswald proclaimed. "I invite you to Edward's party and you have to accuse us of trying something unseemly."

The Club's owner than turned to the crowd. "Have you seen anything illegal happening here?"

The partygoers looked suddenly sheepish and their former boisterous celebrating exchanged for a more demure behaviour. Edward could tell that they were all obviously afraid of the vigilante.

"Well that's just great!" Oswald Cobblepot stated, placing a hand on each hip. "You ungrateful men and ladies can just hightail it out of my club! And you can lead them Batman! This is Edward's party and I will not suffer anybody who will wreck it with such nasty hints and allegations!"

The crowd all looked to their host in dismay, hoping the man was joking or would change his mind.

When he glared at them however, his eyes widening enough for the monocle to actually pop out this time, as he started to scream, "GET OUT BEFORE I _THROW_ YOU OUT!" they knew he was painfully in earnest.

Quickly the partygoers filed out of the Iceberg Lounge, not even waiting for the Dark Knight to lead them. Only Batman remained, staring silently at his longtime foes.

"Go away!" Penguin ordered and Edward watched as the giant bat did surprisingly, his cape flapping behind him as he went.

"Great party Oswald," Edward said as he stared at the empty and confetti laden floor before them.

"Thank God," Cobblepot exclaimed, ignoring his partner's sarcasm. "I thought he'd never show up and those morons would never leave!"

"You had this planned?" Nygma asked, rising to his own feet as Oswald waddled over to a string by the wall.

"The whole time. That's why I only invited fools who are semi friends with Jim Gordon or whom are too wishy washy to oppose our dear old friend: the Batman," the short man boasted. "And I knew he would never leave us alone either until he had thought he had wrecked your party and mistakenly believed that we couldn't kill anybody here."

"Well we can't now!" Edward argued. "They're all gone."

"Not quite," Oswald stated with a wild and mad gleam in his beautiful eyes. 

Unknotting the string tied to the wall, Edward watched as the piñata suddenly fell from the ceiling, hurtling speedily to the ground, until Oswald took hold on the rope again, halting its descent and making it bounce harshly in the air. Tying it in place again, Oswald walked over to his green clad lover, stopping to offer the donkey a sarcastic "sorry" along the way.

"Happy Birthday Edward!" Penguin exclaimed with a flourished motion, indicating the piñata.

"You got me a paper overgrown jackass as a Birthday present?" the Riddler muttered far from impressed.

"Not just any old jackass," Oswald proclaimed, raising a gloved finger. "The biggest jackass in all of Gotham."

Making his way back to the piñata, the gift giver grabbed the donkey's head and pulled it off, revealing the terrified face of an elderly man, a strip of duct tape over his mouth. Staring at what he first took for a stranger, Edward Nygma soon realized his mistake: the man wasn't a stranger at all.

The man was his father.

His mouth falling open, Edward Nygma looked at the old man disguised as an outlandish party game and felt as if he were eight years old again. It didn't matter that this man barely resembled the father whom had made his childhood a living hell: his black hair grey and almost all gone and his skin so full of lines that he resembled a road map...Seeing the monster which had haunted his waking memories and trespassed into his nightly dreams, Nygma reverted to the child whom had died each day under his father's cruelty.

Seeing his love's distress, Oswald quickly dropped Mr. Nygma Sr's head to rush to Edward's side and place a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You are strong now, Edward Nygma. This is my present to you: to show you that. It's your turn to show him what it feels like."

"I c-can't," the younger man stammered.

"Yes, you can!" Penguin encouraged. "Do you think he ever said those two words before he hurt you? No. Neither will you now because he, unlike, you doesn't _deserve_ them to be said."

Stepping on his tiptoes to kiss the Riddler, Oswald then left his side to fetch something on the stage.

Turning to look at his Birthday gift once again, Edward saw the disgust in his father's eyes from the sight of his son being kissed by another man and felt his hatred grow even deeper for his father: something he had not believed possible.

Nygma Jr. walked over to Nygma Sr. an expression of purest loathing on his face. "Does that make you sick, Dad?" he asked, meeting his father's brown eyes. "Do you want to vomit? I can still remember all those words you used to use...fruit, faggot, fairy...And then you'd do what you did to me...Who was the sicko then, huh?"

The man's eyes bugged out in anger and Edward could imagine all too well the words that he would be saying if he could. "Oswald is a better man than you ever were. And I give to him what you stole...YOU STOLE FROM ME!"

Spit was flying from out of Edward's mouth. It landed onto Nygma Sr's face and the man tried to look away until his son grabbed a chunk of his hair and forced him to look at him again. "That was the first question I ever asked myself: why did you do it? And when I realized there wasn't an answer I started to ask myself this one instead: how do I get out of here? That one was almost as tricky...especially when you'd break one of my legs so I couldn't walk...or my hands so I couldn't turn the fucking door knob. But I got out...Riddle me this father...how are _you_ going to get out of this right now?"

The old man's eyes exchanged their hatred for fear as Edward allowed a smile to creep on to his face. Not satisfied with only the widening grin, Nygma Jr. added laughter to it: a sound which emanated from the depth of his lungs and became so powerful it soon filled up the Iceberg Lounge. Edward Nygma let go of his father's head and walked towards Oswald Cobblepot, who had finally reappeared, the baseball bat in his hands.

The Penguin looked at the baseball bat and held it out to the Riddler as if he were presenting his lover with Excalibur. "I made a minor adjustment," Cobblepot explained with a wide smile.

Edward took it and studied the sport equipment's tip. Driven into its head was an old nail. The rusted end of it stuck out sharp and ready to be put to use. Ed Nygma suddenly allowed a painful memory to be brought to his mind. "Thank you," he said with great gratitude to the Penguin.

"You're most welcome," Oswald Cobblepot said in deepest respect to the object of his affection.

The Riddler strode up to his father once again and leaned in towards him. "Remember when I told you that I wanted to be a forensic specialist and you told me that you wanted me to join the Yankees instead?" Edward whispered into the man's ear. "Well today you get your wish. Kind of."

Edward Nygma stood up suddenly, his back straight. "BATTER UP!" he shouted as he swung the bat and the first spray of his father's blood hit his smiling face.

* * *

By the time that Edward Nygma was finished and satisfied, his father had been dead for over an hour and both he and Oswald were drenched in the man's blood. 

"I'm done," the Riddler announced throwing the gore covered bat on to the ground.

"Good," Oswald said.

Edward walked to his lover; he took hold of him and dipped him before kissing him passionately. Oswald found it difficult to catch his breath when his paramour finally set him back on his feet. "Let's get clean, shall we?" Nygma asked.

"The shower in my office washroom?" Penguin suggested.

"Perfect," Ed Nygma grinned wickedly.

They walked hand in hand to the shower.

Having stripped one another, the two men stepped into the shower and began to clean the blood from off of each other. As they did, Oswald remembered how long it had taken for him to be comfortable with Edward when he was naked. His tremendous girth had brought him shame at first. However, Nygma had soon proven to him that he was crazy for him even in this much larger form.

As Edward washed his protruding belly, he turned a mischievous eye on Cobblepot, as his free hand tugged gently on the hardening penis facing him. "I didn't get my Birthday spanks," he said.

"You want them?" Oswald said, trying to stay focused and not get distracted by his own pleasure.

"Well not quite...Can I give them to you instead?"

"Oh Edward!" Cobblepot cooed. "You really mean it?"

Having acquired a rather large ass, the Penguin had long wondered what feeling Edward's hand slapping it would feel like. The man had never offered though and he had felt too embarrassed to ask.

"Yes," Ed replied. "I think I can finally be less...inhibited. But we need a safe word. Incase I get carried away."

Oswald quickly searched his mind, still fighting his ever growing lust as Nygma worked his appreciative member. "How about bat?"

Edward nodded knowing that it was perfectly fitting in two ways. 

After giving the penis in his hand one last energetic squeeze, the tall man repositioned the shorter man so that he was facing away from him. Bending over and placing his hands on the shower wall, Oswald Cobblepot presented his ample bottom to his lover, whom at first bent over and let his tongue lick the crevice. As the Penguin shuddered in delight, the Riddler straightened up again. He pulled his hand back and let it hit Oswald's pale and glistening cheeks.

To his bliss Oswald found himself quite liking the sensation; the sting at the start and the subsequent rush of feeling. He wriggled his bottom in joyful ecstasy.

Edward repeated the motion several times, carefully at the start listening for the word which would signal he had gone too far. When Oswald only called out his name amidst grunts and growls of pleasure, he became bolder. Feeling his own cock, swelling as the warm water fell down around them, Edward Nygma knew he could not hold back any longer. He spread his lover's thick thighs and pushed his demanding length inside the Penguin.

"EDWARD! OH YES! OH EDWARD!" Oswald cried out.

Nygma, whom had grabbed the other man's own swollen penis, felt it twitching in his hand as he started to increase his pushing.

"OH MY DARLING EDWARD!" Penguin moaned as he shot off on to the wall, watching in a daze as his come mixed with the spray of water and ran down the tiles. He felt his lover's cock spasm deep inside him and unleash its seed as well.

Grabbing the hand off of his spent penis, Oswald Cobblepot kissed it ravenously. "Happy Birthday Edward Nygma," he said. "I hope it was a good one."

"The best one," Nygma replied, nuzzling his cheek against the Penguin's neck. "And to think, our intended victim was hanging right above that stupid Bat's head and the fool didn't even know it."

Both men started to laugh maniacally as Edward Nygma held onto Oswald from behind, still buried deep inside his plump little lover; both his body and his heart.

* * *

Batman heard the two men laughing as he stared at the mangled body still attatched to a rope and in a few shred of the piñata which had been its hiding place. He looked to the baseball bat on the floor and then took in the spray of blood all over the Iceberg Lounge. Cobblepot would no doubt have a cleaning crew in by morning and the place would be spotless; there would be no trace of a crime just as surely as the body of Edward Nygma Sr. would never be seen again.

Not that that would be something worth crying over.

The problem in Oswald's scheme had been the fact that the man had not been friendless. His disappearance had been reported, and when it was, Gordon had brought it to his attention, knowing whom the man's son was.

Investigating Nygma Sr. and looking into his criminal record, Batman had found it very difficult to foster any real sympathy for him. Edward Nygma Sr. had been arrested several times on assault charges and had a history of drunk driving. Worse yet, there were repeated child molestation claims. 

Thinking about his son's past suddenly, and ashamed that he never had before, the Dark Knight had hoped that if either the Riddler or Penguin had had anything to do with the man's disappearance that they handled the matter clandestinely enough.

His hope had been vain however. The moment Batman had interrupted the Birthday celebration at the Iceberg Lounge, it hadn't taken him long to have centered on the odd pinata dangling from the club's rafters. Still, when he had been shooed away by Cobblepot, who would there be to blame him, Batman thought, if he chose to save a woman being attacked two blocks away and a child about to be kidnapped instead of lingering at the Lounge?

He hadn't known for sure after all. Not really.

Walking towards the box on the stage, the green handkerchief now also stained with blood so it looked almost like it was designed for Christmas, he thought about how Jeremiah was always talking about how one bad day changed everything.

Staring at the gift Bruce Wayne had carefully chosen, and with a fair amount of pity, the Batman pondered about just how many bad days the young Edward Nygma Jr. had suffered in order to make him the man he had come to know.

The Riddler had been cursed with a monster as a father while he himself, Batman knew, had been blessed with a hero. Even if he had not known him for too long.

Maybe that, besides bad days, made all the difference in the world as well.

Setting the box back gently on the floor, hoping the Riddler could sleep a little easier that night and all the others that his life would have to offer, the Caped Crusader left the Iceberg Lounge quietly and without notice, choosing this time, at least, to remain as blind as the creature that he was named after.

**Author's Note:**

> Third title choice: "Blind as a Bat."


End file.
